


The Overwrought Heart

by starwarned



Series: Fictober 2020 [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fictober, Fictober 2020, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Fictober Day 3Prompt: the greatest grief (Madeline Miller)Simon is flying and Baz is overthinking. Typical.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fictober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951321
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	The Overwrought Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make this longer but then I got sad about it so it's short and has a sweet ending lol 
> 
> prompt from [this list](https://drawingdawnart.tumblr.com/post/629280324527013888/some-of-my-artists-friends-and-i-felt-like-we) on tumblr! (I think it's technically an inktober prompt but uh I'm stealing it)

_ There he goes.  _

I can’t remember the last time we came out here. I doubt Simon can either. 

Simon’s too proud to ask me to drive him three hours away from the city so he can spread his wings but I can tell when it’s been too much for him. When he’s too cooped up and his wings have been cramping for days. Sometimes he’ll fly off the balcony at his flat at three in the morning but he can only do that for about ten minutes before I start to get anxious. He won’t let me cast a cloaking spell on him. 

I surprised him today - I picked him up after my classes and he’d smiled really big and dopey like he does when he’s grateful but doesn’t know how to say it. We drove for a long time to get here - long enough that it’s dark out now and long enough that we ran out of things to talk about. I’ve never minded silence - I spent a lot of my youth sitting in my bedroom closet, stifling my crying so my father wouldn’t hear. Simon gets antsy when it’s too quiet for too long. 

He’s in the air right now. I can barely see him, he’s so far away. Even if I could see him, would I recognize him? (That’s extreme. Of course I would. But he’s different. I’m different.  _ It’s  _ different). 

Simon’s further away from me than he’s ever been. Even when we were enemies and I’d push him down the stairs or he’d go off on me, I felt close to him. Somehow, our mutual attempts to hurt each other were key points in our relationship. Ever since the wings and the Leavers Ball and moving to London and starting classes, he’s even more closed off. He spends hours lying on the couch and some days when I come to visit, he hardly notices I’m even there. 

I know it’s a lot for him. He’s dealing with a lot of change in his life. I’m not mad at him. I just miss him. (How can I miss something I never really had?) 

I hear Simon whoop with joy as he flies into a loop above me. 

When I smile, my chest fucking aches. 

It’s selfish but I wish he was this happy with me. Not that we’ve ever really been  _ happy  _ together. Maybe that night when he kissed in front of my fireplace for hours and hours. But even then, there was an underlying pressure of,  _ is this it? _

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Simon’s current state and about our relationship. I’m sure that Simon has done the opposite - shoved everything into a little corner of his brain labeled  _ Do Not Touch  _ and filled the available space with  _ Lord of the Rings  _ trivia. (He’s been rewatching  _ Fellowship of the Ring  _ a lot). 

Being without him is one of the hardest things I’d ever had to deal with - when I was shut inside a coffin for weeks on end, thinking only about Simon and how  _ much  _ he is and how my fate was intertwined with his no matter what I did. Being without him now - watching him from afar as he soars in the air above me and even sitting next to him but feeling him pulling away - is somehow worse. 

He’s not completely gone. There are days where he’s present and warm and holds me and kisses me like he knows I’m fragile and he doesn’t care. Those are the days when he’ll come with me out to dinner or he’ll take the time to explain some concept in  _ Doctor Who  _ that I haven’t been paying enough attention to. He lets me stay the night. He lets me hold him until he falls asleep and I don’t even care that he’s distant again in the morning. 

It’s getting cold. I didn’t drink today and the lack of blood flow in my system is making it colder. I tighten my jacket around my shoulders and crane my neck back in an attempt to see Simon among the wispy clouds. It’s late in the year so it gets dark faster and I can barely make out the shape of my winged boyfriend. 

I lean back against the door of the car and sigh softly, letting my head fall forward and shutting my eyes. 

“Baz!” 

I snap my head up when I hear it and immediately reach inside my pocket for my wand. 

“Baz,” Simon calls again. He’s gliding down towards me, his wings splayed out behind him gracefully, the wind catching in them. (I never thought I’d refer to anything Simon-related as graceful). 

“You alright?” I ask, keeping my hand inside my pocket but not pulling out my wand because Simon doesn’t look like he’s in trouble or in pain. 

“Yes,” he says. He lands in front of me and takes a few stumbling steps to make up for the force of it. 

The second that he’s close enough to me, his arms around wrapping around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides, and he’s kissing me senseless. 

His pulse is hammering in my ears and I’m helpless as he kisses me. All I can think to do is kiss him back, leaning into his chest and sighing against his mouth. His lips are cold from the wind but the inside of his mouth is burning and delicious. His grip loosens around my shoulders and I manage to get a hand up into his hair and the other wrapped around his waist. 

I think he’s going to let me stay the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes this title is from a shakespeare play. yes i am a theatre major. yes i do hate myself.


End file.
